


Just Like That

by ThoseDaysThatWill



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst, There's A Little Bit Of Fluff, Winnipeg Jets, and a kinda happy ending, most of it is in Brandon's head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill
Summary: “You’re gonna come out, right?” Adam asked, a little too loud, beside his ear.Brandon closed his eyes for a second.If you keep celebrating the way you did, yes, I am. On national television.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _On November 10, 2017, Adam Lowry scored his first goal of the season in a 2-5 loss to the Vegas Golden Knights._
> 
> The general plot was suggested by Ju. If you're tired of reading Adam and Brandon, blame her. If you like it, thank her.

Brandon tried to convince himself that Adam was just _like that_ with everyone. When they celebrated a goal, he tried not to notice exactly how Adam’s arms felt around him, or how he leaned in really close to his ear to praise a hit or a pass. He ignored how the sound of his voice that close made him shiver in front of fifteen thousand people. When Adam checked on him on the bench after a particularly hard hit, he was just being a good teammate. Brandon told himself that he would check on Andrew or Joel or whoever else was out there with them. It was hockey, they were teammates, it didn’t _mean_ anything.

Then there was that game in Vegas. They hadn’t won, but Adam had scored his first goal of the season and he was more than a little excited about it. Players like he and Adam didn’t get many goals in a year, that wasn’t their job, so each one was special and a good reason to celebrate. Brandon told himself that’s all it was when Adam wrapped his arms around him from behind in the locker room after the game.

“You’re gonna come out, right?” Adam asked, a little too loud, beside his ear.

Brandon closed his eyes for a second. _If you keep celebrating the way you did, yes, I am. On national television._ “Uh…”

Adam laughed, “Don’t even think about it. You _have_ to. You were my assist!”

Brandon sighed. Adam hadn’t let go of him yet and it was starting to get uncomfortable, but in a very good way. He forced himself not to lean back against him despite the fact he really wanted to. “Okay, okay, one drink.”

“Great!” Adam finally let go of him and bounded off to find more teammates to invite. Brandon told himself that it was completely his imagination that Adam had kissed his cheek before letting go. He watched him go from teammate to teammate, instructing them that they would be joining him as well. He noticed he didn’t hug any of them to convince them, but he came up with a million different reasons why that would be. Brandon forced himself to focus on getting dressed, though it was almost impossible to take his eyes off Adam when he was that happy. Or… at all.

Most of the team had agreed to go out, probably because Vegas was great for finding places where no one knew them, and no one cared who or what they were doing. Everyone except Adam wanted to forget that game with a drink or a body. The place Adam had picked was small, with a pool table in the back. They took up most of the stools at the bar and half the chairs at the small slightly dirty tables.

When he could get the bartender’s attention, Brandon ordered his drink and then took up a spot leaning his back against the bar. From where he was, he could see Ben at the pool table, shamelessly flirting with one of the rookies as they played. Brandon felt a pang of jealousy, not because he wanted either of them, but because he wished he had that kind of casual confidence. He could imagine what it would be like to be that at ease around someone he found attractive, but when he tried it in real life, he always froze up. But his mind could easily take him into a daydream of what he would be like.

“Checkin’ out Benny?”

Brandon startled so hard he sloshed his drink. He hadn’t heard Adam come up to him because he had been so lost in his own thoughts. Wiping the back of his now wet and sticky hand on his pants, he shook his head, “What? _No_.”

Adam gave him a sloppy grin. He’d clearly already been bought more than a couple drinks. He draped an arm around Brandon’s shoulders, leaning into him. “You were staring pretty hard.”

“I was just thinking, kinda staring off into space, I guess.” Brandon was sure there was a blush on his cheeks and was glad for how bad the lighting was.

He laughed, though it was almost a giggle. “If you _were_ checkin’ him out, I wouldn’t blame you. He’s not a dog.”

Brandon looked up at him, “You think so?”

Adam shrugged, “There are uglier guys on the team. There are better looking ones, too.” His words weren’t completely slurred, but they were certainly _a lot_ more fluid than usual. And he smelled vaguely of tequila, which probably meant that he’d already spilled at least one shot and drank who knows how many.

Brandon took a breath, “Like who?” He was so surprised the words came out of his mouth, he almost looked around to see who said that.

Adam laughed, pointing them out as he named them, as if Brandon might not know his own teammates, “Like… the Cap’n, or Matti, or Buff, or you…. Lotta guys like that. I guess Benny’d count in there too, you got a point. Y’don’t want the _pretty_ ones ‘cause they’re too much work, y’know? There’s a difference ‘tween good lookin’ guys and _pretty_. Like you… you’re not pretty, but you’re _hot_. Y’know?”

 _He’s drunk_ , Brandon told himself, _he’s drunk, and he has no idea what he’s saying._ Despite that, Brandon’s heart was going a million miles an hour and his mouth was suddenly dry. He glaced over to the bar before remembering that he was still holding his drink. He took a long sip, trying to calm himself down. He tried to think of something to say that wasn’t ‘you think I’m hot?’ because that sounded stupid, even in his head.

“What do you have? Coke?!” Adam took the glass from his hand, “Did you really get _Coke_?” He took a swig from the glass and shook his head, “Even Jack and Coke is _not_ good enough today. You need shots. Come take shots with me.”

Brandon shook his head, “I’m good.”

“I _know_. That’s why you need a shot! Because you are fuckin’ _amazing_.” He took his arm off his shoulders to hook it with Brandon’s arm, “C’mon. They make some green thing. They’re great. I had two, or three, or something. They fucked me up good.”

Brandon tried to think of words, _any words_ , but nothing was coming to mind. His entire brain was completely empty, except for the sound of Adam telling him he was amazing. Lucky for him, before Adam could get the bartender’s attention, their more responsible teammates were going around suggesting that they head back to the hotel. The plane ride would come early in the morning and getting _some_ sleep would do them well.  Brandon was able to escape the shot while they were being herded into the waiting cabs. It was only then that he realized half their teammates had left early, probably in pairs.

Somehow, Brandon ended up in a cab between Mark (who would never take someone home from a bar) and Andrew (who looked pissed about the fact he hadn’t been taken home). Andrew looked like he’d had a few and rested his head against the window. Brandon, unfortunately, wasn’t even slightly buzzed. All the same, he let his head fall back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He should have gone with his first instinct and gone back to the hotel from the arena. His stomach hurt and he didn’t even really know why.

“Why don’t you _tell_ him?” Mark asked, carefully.

Brandon didn’t say anything for a long moment. Maybe he wasn’t talking to him. They all knew the sentiment could have applied to Andrew just as easily. It occurred to Brandon that Andrew was probably thinking the same thing about him, and that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Mark had probably tossed the question out there to see which one of them was going to bite. Silence hung in the cab for a long moment.

Without picking his head up or opening his eyes, Andrew took the bait, “ _Fuck him_.”

Brandon glanced over to Mark, happy to pretend that Andrew was the only one that the question could apply to. Mark shrugged, shaking his head, his expression one of ‘what can you do?’ Brandon tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound painfully hypocritical. _He said I was amazing_ , was the only thought in his head, and that wasn’t helpful to anyone, least of all himself. He kept quiet.

He let himself into his hotel room as quietly as possible. He wasn’t sure why, he didn’t know what he was expecting to find. What he did find was that someone had poured Adam into his bed, still fully clothed, and it looked like he was asleep. Or passed out. Brandon shook his head. He pulled Adam’s shoes off and pulled the blanket over him. The feeling churning in Brandon’s stomach confused him until he could put a name on it. _Relief_. Adam hadn’t gone back to anyone’s room with them. Brandon hadn’t realized that he had been upset because he didn’t see Adam leave. He had been _jealous_ that he could have been off with someone else. And now, to see Adam curled up on his bed, exactly where he was supposed to be, his whole system was flooded with relief.

 _Fuck_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall receive. I had a lot of punctuation-filled requests to not end part one there. So here's a part two.

_The next morning..._

“Bran?” Adam’s voice was muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into.

“Yeah?”

“Is there construction outside?”

“No.”

“Oh, then it is in my head. Do I gotta get up?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Adam rolled over and blinked his eyes a few times. Clearly deciding that was a terrible idea, he grabbed the other pillow and put it over his face, “I don’t _wanna_.”

Brandon quirked a smile, glad that Adam couldn’t see it, “You _gotta_.”

There was silence for a long moment, then he moved the pillow away, “Do I smell bacon?”

Brandon laughed, “Yeah, you do.” He hadn’t moved from sitting on the edge of his bed, and he hadn’t taken his eyes from the phone in his hands. He had been texting with his brother, who was also getting ready to hop a plane. He’d told Chris about what had happened the night before. Well, a summary of it. He had left off what he’d come to realize as he laid in his bed that night. He wasn’t ready to talk about that out loud yet, even to his brother.

Adam groaned loudly as he sat up, and Brandon had to force himself to keep his eyes on his phone even if there was nothing new to see in his text message app. He could hear the moans Adam made as he stretched himself awake. It was purely unfair, but he knew Adam wasn’t doing it on purpose. That didn’t help the way his body reacted to the sound, though. He found himself wishing he hadn’t already showered.

“You… ordered room service?” Adam asked, rubbing the last bit of sleep out of his eyes.

Brandon nodded, “ _Plain_ pancakes, bacon. Orange juice. That’ll help your hangover.” He stole a glance over to Adam just in time to see his eyes light up and a smile take over his whole face. It was like a punch right to his stomach and he did all he could not to make a sound. He snapped his eyes back to his phone. Chris hadn’t replied to his last next, but he sent a new one: _Fuck_.

Adam had made his way over to the table the breakfast tray sitting on. Peeking under the lid, his smile grew even more. “Not even any butter!” He reported with delight.

Brandon kept his head down, but he couldn’t help the smile. He had repeated the order to room service three times, to make sure it was right. And he’d checked the plate before he let the delivery kid leave. When they ordered room service instead of joining the team breakfast, which was rare, Adam insisted on being the one to order, because he had to make sure they made his food the way he wanted it. To call him a picky eater was a joke, it went way beyond that.

Adam tore pieces off the pancakes with his fingers and stuffed them into his mouth, then washed it down with a big gulp of juice. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Brandon got up, putting his focus on making sure everything was packed. He had already done that, while Adam was sleeping. He had even packed Adam’s things. But he checked it all again because it was better to keep busy in the face of Adam’s sleep matted hair, pleased sounds, and big grin.

“So…” He started between crunches of bacon, “Was I a total ass to you last night?”

Brandon gave him a surprised look, “No. Why? Do you… I mean you _were_ pretty trashed.”

Adam groaned, running a hand through his hair. Making a face, he wiped yesterday’s gel off on his pants. “I need a shower.”

Brandon snorted a laugh, “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah, you do stink.”

Adam scoffed with his own laugh, “Fuck you. I look _fantastic_ after having slept in the clothes I wore yesterday. And spilled booze on. And… okay, yeah, I stink.”

Brandon caught that other ‘and’. He couldn’t help but wonder what _other_ thing he did in those clothes besides drinking and sleeping. He hadn’t had eyes on him until the end of the evening, he had no idea what—or who—he could have done earlier. Annoyingly, that feeling came back to his stomach, that churning awful feeling of both wanting to know and _not_ wanting to know. He didn’t say anything.

Having inhaled the pancakes, Adam stood up and pulled his shirt off over his head. He started heading for the shower, but stopped at the foot of Brandon’s bed, “You _sure_ I didn’t say anything bad?”

Brandon shook his head without looking at him. Couldn’t he have waited for the bathroom to start getting undressed? It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen Adam shirtless a thousand times, but his mind wasn’t in the right place to handle it in that moment. He didn’t dare even glance at him.

“ _Yes,_ I did.” Adam sighed, “You’re being weird. Did I fuck this up? What did I say?”

Brandon’s grip on his phone turned white-knuckled. He wanted to ask what ‘this’ was, that he could fuck it up. _This_ wasn’t anything. _This_ was Brandon staring at Adam across the locker room while he flirted with, and got hit on by, every single one of their teammates. _This_ was that gnawing feeling in his stomach he got every time Adam smiled at someone else. _This_ was Adam feeling like he had the right to put his hands anywhere on Brandon’s body, and speak close beside his ear, and then expected him not to react to it. _This_ sucked. And if _this_ was fucked up, great! But he didn’t say any of that. He just shook his head, “You didn’t say anything.”

Adam sat down next to him, so close that their legs touched, and Brandon did all he could not to pull away. Not because he didn’t like Adam’s leg touching his, but because he liked it too much. Adam’s shoulders were dropped, and he was frowning, “Tell me. Please?”

 _Not fair._ Brandon sighed, keeping his attention on his phone, “You said I was hot.”

Adam blinked a few times. He started to say something, then stopped and seemed to think about it for another minute. “And… you don’t _want_ to be hot?” He asked, confused.

The laugh that came out at that surprised Brandon and his hand went instinctively to his mouth. “It’s not that…”

Adam tried to puzzle through it. “You… didn’t want _me_ to notice?” He tried.

Brandon shook his head, “No, it’s not that either.”

Adam raised his hands and shoulders in a questioning gesture, “Then what _is_ it?”

“I’d like you to notice _sober_.” The words were out of Brandon’s mouth before his brain could scream about how they were a terrible idea to say aloud. He closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and looked over to Adam to see his reaction.

Adam’s eyes were wide as he stared at him. His voice was nearly a growl, not quite angry, but full of frustration. “You think I _don’t_ notice?! Like when you’re sitting in the locker room, with that _thinking_ look on your face. Like every fuckin’ time you slam somebody into the boards and I just wanna—” He took in a deep breath, composing himself, “I _notice_.”

Brandon could feel the flush in his cheeks, but Adam’s tone of voice encouraged him, because he felt the same level of frustration. Somehow, he managed not to look away from him, and even started to smile, “You wanna _what_?”

Adam’s hand was on the back of his head before he realized what was happened. He pulled him to him, crushing their mouths together, instantly demanding access. Brandon only took a second to regain himself, to eagerly open to him, to encourage him to explain everything just that way. He rested a hand on his shoulder, just to touch him, skin on skin. The kiss was taking his breath away and scrambling any coherent thoughts he might have had. He had dreamed of what it would be like to kiss Adam and he thought he’d conceived of every possible way it could have gone. Except, of course, exactly how it was. Words, or thoughts, couldn’t have described this anyway.

 _Knock, knock_. Blake’s voice announced, “You missed breakfast. Bus leaves in twenty minutes.”

Adam pulled back, startled at the sound, catching his breath. “Uh… _that_.”

Brandon nodded slowly, his eyes still a little glazed over, his breath ragged. “You… you should go with that, uh, that thought.” He would have been embarrassed by his lack of coherent speaking, if he could have formed enough coherent _thought_ to notice that he was mumbling.

Adam grinned, “So, uh…” He leaned in close, dropping his voice, “Tonight… after the game? You wanna _not_ go out?”

Brandon wanted to be able to think of something witty to say, he wanted to not be _that_ effected by finally being able to kiss Adam. But the truth was, it was rather remarkable that he was even able to nod a second time. He just prayed that Adam kept his eyes on Brandon’s and didn’t glance down at his lap.

Adam stood up, with a terribly teasing stretch, “I gotta shower really quick. I don’t wanna stink on the plane.” He didn’t wait for a reply, probably because he knew he wasn’t going to get one, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once he was out of sight, Brandon snapped out of his trance. After a few deep breaths, he looked down at his phone, and texted: _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._


End file.
